Prelude to a Happy Ending
by K. Vengeance
Summary: After the trio finished school, defeat Voldermort, and start their lives, what will become of them? Will Harry find who he's looking for? Hermione does, but it definatly not what she expected. And then there's Ron... (RL, HD, HSomeone new - M for languag
1. Movin' on Up

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters….WAAAA!

A/N: Ok, so this is my first HP fic, so go easy on me okay? I hope you like this (and change…)

oO0 0Oo

He looked around the room in astonishment, dropping his bags on the floor with a loud thud.

"Whoa," Ron said, entering the room right behind Harry. He heard Ron't bags hit the floor as well.

"Oh, come on, it can't be that-" Hermione said, stopping mid-sentence upon entering. Her bags floated to the ground and softly landed.

"When they said a 'little hole in the wall apartment' I didn't think it'd be the kind of hole in the wall a king would stay in," Harry said, walking around.

The room was (in a word) huge. It was ornately decorated, with all the finest furniture imaginable. Ron, heading straight for the fridge of course, almost fainted when he saw it packed with food.

Hermione levitated her bags around with her as she studied the room, trying not to look too impressed. After a moment, she walked towards the hallway to pick her room. Satisfied with the one that had an adjoining bathroom, she yelled out her door, "I get this one!" With that she started unpacking.

"I feel so honored," her dresser exclaimed.

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"Tho, Harry, how long aw we thaying here?" Ron asked through a mouthful of crackers.

"I hope for awhile, I'm sick of moving," he sighed, looking out the window. "I just wish everyone would leave me alone."

"That's impossible, you're the biggest hero in the wizarding world. You have been since you were a baby. You defeated You-Know-Who finally, and now you're the top Seeker for the most elite team of Quiddich players. You're the most wanted man in – in the world!" Ron said, almost grudgingly.

"Yeah, well, it's not that great. I'm just glad you guys are here. I'd go loony otherwise." He ran his hand through his hair, a habit he had picked up during all of his interviews and award ceremonies.

To him, his life was one big TV show for everyone else to watch. He just wanted to be normal, that's all he ever wanted. To be left alone, just be average.

'Oh well,' he thought, 'No use thinking about it, nothing will change.'

"Hey, Harry," Ron asked quietly, darting his eyes around the room, "Is everything going to be, …you know…_normal_…I mean, ever since you and…."

"Ron," Harry said, exasperatedly, he was tired of having this conversation, "that over a year ago. Besides, we're not in school anymore, I think we're mature enough to live together and not let it affect our relationship."

"I'm glad you two are working things out," Hermione said from the hallway.

She was leaning against the door frame, dressed in her pajamas, her frizzy hair in a puff of a ponytail. She laughed at her own joke and walked into the room.

As much as he hated to admit it, Ron had a point. This wasn't going to be easy for Harry, and he didn't think it'd be a piece of cake for Hermione either.

After Hogwarts ended, Harry was mixed up in his final fight with Lord Voldermort. Although he won and killed Voldermort once and for all, part of him was still bonded. He spent the better half of the next year in a comma.

Ever since he woke up, things seemed to go from bad to worse. First, Hermione and him split up, then he was being stalked by the paparazzi, _then_ the Dursleys vanished. Moved out, actually, but Harry has no idea where they are (not that he'd go looking for them).

The only good things that happened were that he got offered a position as Seeker for a new professional team, formed by none other that – Oliver Wood. That, and the fact that Hermione, him, and Ron were closer than ever, were the only things keeping him from going off the edge.

Still, that didn't change that fact that he still wasn't completely over her. As much as he wanted to be, he wasn't. Truth is, he never really wanted to end it in the first place. But he knew it wasn't working and he didn't want rumors to spread about their "love life."

Besides, he liked having her for a friend much better anyway. Relationships were no good for him, or the girl he was dating. There was too much pressure involved – mainly from the media.

"So, first night in the new house, anyone scared?" Hermione asked, wiggling her eyebrows.

The boys laughed. "Not yet, just don't put any of that green junk you usually put on at night and I think I'll sleep nightmare free!" Harry said, trying to dodge a pillow launched at his head.

"Yeah well, if you'd stop snoring so loud, I might actually _get_ some sleep," Hermione smirked.

"Okay you two, don't make me be the adult here. Do I have to send you to bed early?" Ron asked, in a mock-parental tone.

"No need, I'll send myself, I'm beat," Harry said through a yawn. He headed down the hallway and into his new room.

He felt less than at home, 'I guess I have to get used to this being my home now, at least for awhile.' He thought, flopping in his bed. It mad a light 'umph' sound.

He rolled over to face the moonlight, running his hand through his hair.

From the living room he heard shouting.

"Ron! Just give me the remote! I don't understand why you're being so childish about this!"

'This will be interesting…' Harry though, piling pillows over is face, trying to muffle the sounds.

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A/N: I know, kinda boring, but almost all starter chapters are! So please review!


	2. Guess Who

Disclaimer: You know the drill . . . and if not, you should learn the drill . . . you should get one of those "The Drill: For Idiots" books they sell at your local Borders, Walden books, B. Dalton, or other book store. Only $19.99 (plus tax)

A/N: Hello, so the first chapter is out of the way. Now for the fun stuff! Don't get discouraged if I don't have long chapter, it's just the way I write. I'd rather post a shorter chapter that's really good than I longer chapter that doesn't really have a point, it's just there to be a long chapter…

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Harry woke up to a sharp pain in his side. He swatted at whatever the source was, but that only made it hurt twice as bad. He rolled over, squinting into the blinding light. He was greeted by a very professional looking Hermione. She was poking his with her wand and yelling at him.

He stumbled into the kitchen, greeted by Ron, looking like a mirror image to Harry.

"She get you up too?" He asked.

Ron just nodded. "We have to do something about that woman. I can't go on living like this." He said, plunging his spoon into his cereal.

Harry nodded. He could hear Hermione in the other room, yelling something about how it had only been one night and the house looked like crap.

He rolled his eyes, looking at the clock. "Hermione!" he yelled.

She poked her head out from the hallway.

"Why the hell did you get us up at 8:30 in the morning? My match isn't until 1:00!" he yelled, his morning temper showing.

"Yeah! And I don't have to be there until quarter to, since I don't have to worry about seats or anything." Ron said, fuming into his Fruit Loops.

"Honestly, the lack of responsibility you two have is amazing. I have to cover the other team and I need to get there early so I can interview them. Since I know that once you guys are up you stay up, I thought I'd wake you up to make sure you don't miss your game."

They both gave her blank stares, pointing at the clock.

She frowned at the two of them then disappeared back into the hallway.

Harry and Ron looked at each other, smiling. They loved making her life difficult, she was so fun to watch freak out.

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"Tell me, Mr. Girdumol, how do you feel the team's chances of making it to the finals of the Quiddich cup are?" Hermione asked, her quill pen hovering above her paper.

He leaned back in his chair, "That's a good question. I think we have as good a chance as any to pull ahead. Thanks to our new Seeker, we might even come out the victor this year."

"Well, thank you very much, Mr. Girdumol, and good luck in the game," Hermione said, standing up and shaking his hand as he left.

She dropped the pleasant act as soon as he left the cramped little room. Plopping down in her chair, she massaged her temples. For the last five hours she had been interviewing snobby players, hardcore game go-ers, and proud family members and coaches.

"If I have to listen to one more egotistical player who I can only half understand, I'm going to turn someone into a teakettle," she mumbled under her breath.

"Good thing I'm next then," a silky voice said from the doorway.

Hermione sat up, startled, trying to fix her skirt and look presentable. When she noticed it was just _him_, she relaxed a bit.

But not much.

A sleek and well toned man stood in the doorway, leaning casually against the door frame. His hair was slicked back, a half smile on his face, allowing a dimple to show through on his left cheek.

"My, my, my. Hermione Granger. Why, I haven't seen you since Hogwarts. How are you?" He asked, starting towards her and seating himself in the chair across from her.

She watched him, trying to read his actions. "Hello Draco. Are you playing for the D team?"

He smiled fully, and almost convincingly. She wasn't sure if he was after something, or really trying to be civil.

"Yes, I am the new Seeker for the "D Team."

"Well, since you're here, I might as well interview the "secret weapon" coach Girdumol was raving about," she reached for her pen and paper, but his hand stopped hers.

"Hermione, I was hoping we could talk . . . About, that night . . . I mean, we never really did. You left before I could explain and I was kind of out of it for awhile, what with my dad and all…" he was watching the fire intently, she could see the hate in his glare.

"All right, what do you want to talk about?" she asked, trying not to lose the sense of professionalism in her voice.

He watched her for a moment before speaking, as if choosing his words," I never meant for things to go like they did. I guess the only reason I acted like I did was because my dad did. I mean, I wanted him to be proud of me. But by the end, it wasn't worth it, he wasn't my dad anymore. I doubt he ever was. So I just said screw it. Why try to be something I'm never going to be?" he said, not looking away from her.

She weighed his words. "I know what you mean. It's hard to be something you're not but think you should be because that's how everyone else wants you to be."

He smiled his half smile again. He really was quite good looking.

There was a moment of silence before he spoke, getting up, "Well, I should get to the locker room. Coach has to go over the game plan," he said, rolling his eyes.

"Ok. Hey! What should I put down for your comment?" She asked, remembering why she was there in the first place.

He scratched his lower jaw in thought, "I don't have one." With that, he apparated out.

She looked at the space he had been in moments ago, thinking of how bizarre the last five minutes had been.

"Hermione! What are you doing?" her editor asked, running in, "the tournament is about to start!"

She looked at him blankly for a moment, unclear of where exactly she was.

"Hello! Get out there and write some stories!" He said, his eyes bugging out.

She headed out, sighing in annoyance.

"Here we go," she muttered to herself, getting her Quick Quill Pen out.

As she dictated the first game to herself, she couldn't help but drift from topic. She kept adding side notes like, "Why does he suddenly want to talk about something that happened over a year ago?" and "Has he always had brown eyes?"

For whatever reason, she found herself drifting over to the other side of the field where Harry's team was. She spotted Ron, sitting with the coach going over game plans.

As she waved she noticed Draco standing a few rows up from where Ron was. He saw her and gave a quick wave. Hesitantly she waved back, not sure what to make of his strange behavior.

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Halfway through the second game, Harry got a bludger to his right arm and had to sit out for a bit while the nurse on duty fixed him up. A foul was called on the other team, and Harry's team was allotted a free shot – which they got – tying the score. The crowd went ballistic! (ha ha get it? BALL istic?)

"Harry, doesn't it bug you to not be playing?" Hermione asked, watching the nurse work on his arm.

He grunted in response.

"Too rough." The nurse muttered, "This game is too rough on those boys. One of these days they'll get harmed beyond my repair, or worse." She finished the potion she was working on and urged Harry to drink it before walking to her next patient.

He wrinkled up his nose in distaste. When he had gulped it all down he looked at Hermione. "The only good part about getting hurt in professional Quiddich is you always have a stand in."

"What's the worst part – besides losing," she asked.

"Getting hit by a bludger."

"But you've been nailed by tons of bludgers, not to mention other things . . ."

"Yeah, but these were hit by professional Quiddich players."

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A/N: Well, that's all until next time. So maybe it wasn't the best chapter ever, but it's still the beginning, give it time.


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